Fucking hell…
His eyes slide shut in a lazy blink, and I freeze when I find myself at the center of his attention. Maybe he won’t see me if I hold absolutely still. Of course I know that’s bullshit, but I can’t seem to overrule my programming.
When he opens his eyes again, his pupils are back to normal, but I can still see the beast hovering beneath the surface, watching me keenly.
“Someone put a lock on my memories. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t at the mercy of the council, their tamed pet, forced to do their bidding.” His smile is slow to form, revealing far too many teeth in his mouth, and I’m unable to turn away from the apex predator.
Fear balloons in my chest, and I’m afraid to blink for fear that he will pounce, not that watching him will save me.
If he wanted, he could crush me with a swipe of his paw. So why didn’t he? Fuck, he could shift and peel open the car like it was a can of sardines. I doubt any of us would survive being squashed by a few tons of wiggling lizard without severe injury or death.
Then the truth slams into me…
“You can’t shift without permission,” I blurt out in horror. No way would the council allow him that much power. I should be relieved he can’t squish me like a bug, but pity stings the back of my eyes that he’s forced to live half a life. Sure, he might be an Orion, but no one deserves to live with only half their soul.
To have your beast locked away, unable to shift, would be pure torture. Givvens wasn’t as cruel, the old man often allowing me to shift in the privacy of my room. It takes a moment for my internal freak-out to subside, and a new thought immediately hits me.
They sent a fucking dragon to retrieve me—one of their best.
The only reason they would do that is if they know the truth.
I’m screwed.
I slump in defeat.
Even if I manage to evade them today, they will never stop hunting me. They would rather burn down the world than allow me to remain free. They can’t afford to have a threat like me alive and not under their thumb.
Not only because I can disrupt their authority, but because I can destroy their carefully constructed world. If people discover someone else is strong enough to overthrow the lore, it would cause a revolution. The council is so toxic that they would rather slaughter the whole realm and start over than allow anyone else to take over their reign of terror.
The car is silent as we barrel down the dark roads. The closer we get to Scottsville, the more tension fills my spine, and I realize I can’t just walk around with a man draped in chains.
But can I really allow him to go free?
What’s to prevent him from turning me over to the council?
Honestly, I’m not sure I can stop him.
Sure, I can disrupt magic, can even perform small tricks and spells, but I’m just as helpless as the next person against brute strength.
With each mile that passes, my mood turns even grimmer. I have basically two options. I can kill him. Unfortunately, even with all of Gramps’ training, I’m not sure I would succeed. Or I can bind his fate to mine. We would either survive together…or die together, making me no better than the council.
Also, if by some miracle we survived, my life would be forever tied to him—to a fucking dragon. The thought is both daunting and, as much as I hate to admit it, exhilarating. Just as dawn lightens the horizon, a sign reveals we are only ten miles away from Scottsville. I pull over on the side of the road and scrub my eyes with the heels of my hands. After a long night of driving, my eyes are dry and gritty.
I’m cranky, hungry, and confused—not a great combination. I turn off the car, then throw my door open, needing to stretch my legs. As I inhale deeply, the fresh air burns my lungs. Their combined scents are overwhelming…and addicting. I pace back and forth down the road, trying to clear my head and make a logical decision without them influencing me.
I spin the keychain around my finger over and over, but it does little to calm my agitation. None of the options are acceptable. I manage only a few seconds of space before the rest of the men spill out of the vehicle. They stretch, their animal grace making it impossible to look away. While each of them has a different build, they are all sleek and deadly…not to mention, absolutely stunning.
Resisting them is futile, not that I don’t try my best.
I’m nothing if not stubborn.
I fist the keys, the metal digging into my palm, the bite of pain helping center me. Then I toss the keys toward Tyler, knowing leaving the guys behind is the right decision…even if my wolf releases a mournful howl in my head. “Let me grab my bag, then the car is yours. You’re only a few hours from the next territory. Ditch the vehicle once you cross over. I’ll track your scent once the job is done and meet up with you afterward.”
It wouldn’t be fair to ask them to help me on a case.
That doesn’t stop a sense of loss from searing my insides at the thought of being separated from them.
Forcing one foot in front of the other, I head toward the car, refusing to look at any of them for fear my resolve might waver. But when I reach for the back door, Garth steps into my path, leaving me staring at a wall of muscle.
